Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (91 page)

BOOK: Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice
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“I would not want Lizzy’s position, Mr. Collins.  I know that it is not for me.”  Mary said without emotion.  “Please continue.” 

“Thank you, my dear.”  Clearing his throat, he noticed the rapt attention and began reading on, his face growing redder as he continued,
Mrs. Darcy was born for her place, if she was not bred for it.  My nephew could not have been more correct when he chose her to stay by his side and lead Pemberley into the future.  I come now to the crux of this letter.
  Starting to read on he stopped.  “Oh . . . I . . . this is quite . . . private . . .”

Mary took the letter from his hand and turning from her, he hid his face.  She read it through, and with her neck covered in ugly red blotches, she stood and excused herself.  Collins immediately ran after her, leaving the letter lying on the sofa.  Lydia snatched it up and before anyone could say a word, started to read aloud,
I am disgusted to learn that despite having a wife who is now carrying your child, you, Mr. Collins, presumed to gloat of Mrs. Collins’ quickening to my nephew.  Legitimate excitement I can excuse, but what you did was shameful.  How dare you suggest that Mrs. Darcy’s lack of a child comes as a result of her refusal to perform her wifely duties?  How dare you speak of such matters to any person let alone a man who is more passionate for his wife than you will ever understand?  I am gravely disappointed in you, Mr. Collins.  Your wife is too good for you.  She was born a gentlewoman; you have only inherited your place.  You will never reach her level, especially if you continue to claim superiority over a man who has done his utmost to support and educate you as you take on this unfamiliar role.  To claim to him that Mrs. Darcy is unwilling is the cruellest cut of all.  Shame on you, Mr. Collins!  Mrs. Collins is a saint to accept you.  I pray that you will one day be worthy of her.
 

“My goodness.”  Mrs. Bennet gaped.  

“Passionate for his wife.”  Caroline said in a whisper.

Hurst noticed Bingley watching Jane, so clearing his throat; he plucked the letter from Lydia and folded it.  “I will just see that this is returned to Mr. Collins, I am certain that Mrs. Collins will want him to read it again.”

 

BINGLEY FOLLOWED JANE into their chambers and closed the door behind him while she began removing her gloves.  She looked up and said softly, “How embarrassing that was.”

“Yes.  I am ashamed that my chastising words to him concerning the steward were mild in comparison.  Of course he must have gloated to Darcy because he is still smarting from Elizabeth refusing him.”

“I thought that he cared for Mary.”

“I believe that he does, but he could not resist the chance to get some of his own back after being so thoroughly humiliated, at least in his mind, by Darcy.  It was petty and he will pay for it forever, Darcy forgets nothing, and I have a feeling that Mary is the same.”

“Mary will forgive him.  She would follow the teachings of the Bible.”  She turned and looked at him.  “And he will grovel at her feet.” 

“It does not eliminate the memory of his jealousy, nor the suspicion that it might return one day.” Bingley pulled out the knot in his neck cloth and then sat down on her bed.  “Jane.”

She looked at him and blushed, “Oh . . . let me change from my gown first, Charles.” 

“No, I . . . I want to speak with you.”  Bingley looked down at his hands and then away to the dark window before finding her eyes again.  “I am not accomplished with this, but . . . I need to express . . . displeasure with your behaviour today.”


My
behaviour?”  She stared and put her hand to her chest. 

“I am used to my sisters, Caroline particularly.  And I am certainly acquainted with your sisters and your mother.  I suppose that I . . . I chose to be wilfully blind to them when we were courting and then discounted their behaviour as your father was ill and after he died, but . . . it is nearly five months on, and . . . when we returned from our travels, well, I saw them with the clear eyes that my friends who were not falling in love did from the beginning.”  He shrugged. “Although I am certain it is only part of the reason why Darcy stays away, it is without question, a reason.” 

“I know of my family’s shortcomings, Charles.  I had to grow up with them.  And I believe that I recognized them more so when we returned.”  She stared down at her clasped hands.

Bingley nodded, “Yes, you did and it surprised and pleased me.  Like me, you prefer to see everything . . . sweetly.”

“But you are disappointed in me now?” 

“We share families who have embarrassing members, and we have both overcome the inadequacies in our family experiences.  It is just that . . . I have never seen
your
shortcomings before.”  He held her eyes when she looked up and stared like a frightened doe.  “You are not the perfect angel I thought you were.  I was foolish to think so, nobody is without fault.  I am impulsive and far too easy, and doubtless other things that might annoy you and those who know me.  Referring to my friends, they . . . were of the opinion that you are a woman without great feeling, content, was the word that struck me.  I thought them wrong.  In fact, there were times when I was sure of it.  When we were in London and you came to me, it was wonderful to see your feelings displayed.”  He forced himself to go forward.  “And then you threw yourself into the care of your father, which was perfectly admirable . . .  But now I am beginning to see a different sort of passion in you, one that is not so admirable, passion that is directed solely at one person, Elizabeth.”

Jane gasped, “I love my sister!”

“Do you notice, that Mary, who lives in Longbourn, and who deals with not only your mother and sisters, but that utter fool of a husband . . . not once has she said a word of disdain or doubt about her?” 

“I defended her today!”  Jane cried.

“Before my family you did, but before yours, you were more than willing to gasp and listen to the fodder.  It reminded me of Mrs. Bennet, how she praises before strangers and disparages before family.  I have never noticed that about you before.  I do not like it one bit.  What you did not say out loud, I saw in your posture.”  He sighed, “I miss Darcy.  He . . . he was, and I hope him to be again, a very great friend of mine.  He made me who I am by supporting me so vigorously.  I hope that we find an estate that is reasonably near Pemberley so that our friendship can be renewed.”

Jane nodded, “I hope for the same, to be near Lizzy.”

Bingley’s brow creased, “Do you?  Because after what I heard and observed today, I think that you still hold her in contempt for abandoning the family somehow.  Or is it jealousy for the great love she experiences?  Or the praise she has received?  You are used to being the one who is first.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I do not like hearing that familiar note of disdain in your voice for her that Caroline and your mother have.  Elizabeth is a woman married, her home is with her husband and she obviously has supported him well to change and win Lady Catherine’s good opinion.  I certainly know of her well enough from Darcy that to hear her defend Elizabeth so vigorously against Collins she
must
be impressed, especially after being in London after their marriage and hearing the venom that she spread about them. You have not seen Pemberley, but I assure you, the burden your sister shoulders as its mistress is nothing like you can imagine, then add two more homes to it and it is incredible.”  Bingley licked his lips and grasped his hands.  “When we left for Scarborough and our travels, I saw the girl I thought I had married emerging again after the long months of caring for her father, and rejoiced.  Now that we are returned, I recognize the woman I was blind to before.  I believe that we are leaving here just in time.  And, I will follow Darcy’s example, and will not encourage visits between our home and Longbourn.  His advice and example are eminently reliable, and in this, I agree.”  He stood and kissed her cheek.  “Well, I said my piece.  I am going to retire now.” 

“You will not stay?”  Jane whispered.

“No, I . . . I think I will sleep in my room tonight.” 

“Charles . . .” Jane searched for something to say . “I do not believe that I am jealous of Lizzy’s love for Mr. Darcy or her accomplishments, and I do not know why I am so disparaging of Lizzy for not being here when Papa died.” 

“Well.  I do not either.  But when you behave jealously towards Elizabeth . . . it makes me feel inadequate, that what I have to offer you is not enough, my passion is not enough . . . I have battled enough bad opinion to reach the position I have now.  I . . . do not need to feel it from you, the woman I love.”  Kissing her cheek again, he squeezed her hand. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Charles.”  She watched him go and hearing the door shut quietly, she shakily sank down onto the bed and began to cry.

 

“I CAN MAKE NEITHER head nor tails of this letter.”  Mrs. Gardiner set it down on her lap and looked at her husband.  “It is covered with smeared ink, and it says absolutely nothing.  She must have been sobbing her heart out when she wrote it.” 

“Let me see.”  Mr. Gardiner took Jane’s letter in hand and shook his head.  “Take away the smudges and it is an ordinary letter.  They are planning to leave for Pemberley in a fortnight . . . Did Lizzy have a miscarriage?”  He looked up at his wife worriedly.  “Darcy was only just asking for symptoms of pregnancy, this will devastate them both!  What more must they carry?”

Immediately Mrs. Gardiner soothed him, “No, no, somehow your sister assumed that pregnancy was why Lizzy did not come to her father, and why Mr. Darcy took her to Scotland for so long, to cheer her after the baby was lost.” 

“Oh.”  He relaxed.  “Well, if the truth has not been confessed by now I certainly do not see it happening in the future, that Darcy told me of Miss Darcy was somewhat of a miracle and an incredible show of trust.”  Clearing his throat, he read on.  “Did you notice, she talks a great deal about Lizzy? And then about Bingley wanting to keep distance from Longbourn?”

“I thought that she was just looking forward to finding a home near Pemberley?”  Mrs. Gardiner took the letter back and read again.  “Ohhhhh.”  She closed her eyes.  “You always have to read between the lines with Jane.  I know what happened, they had their first fight.”

“Jane and Bingley?  How long have they been married?”  He laughed.  “How long did we last before our first?”

“At least a month.”  Mrs. Gardiner smiled.

“And there was Darcy and Elizabeth . . .”  He sighed and shook his head.  “What a row that was!”

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head vigorously, “A row?  No, it was far more than that.  They suffered horribly that day.  Knowing what we do now, how much more could we have done for them?”

“Darcy would not have accepted our advice then, dear.  And honestly, I would not have felt comfortable offering more than I did, he was a different man.  I think that they did much better on their own, they grew so much from it.”  He looked thoughtfully at the letter.  “And now we have the Bingleys, their troubles are nothing to the Darcys, although to Jane, it probably feels just as terrible.” He started chuckling and saw her enquiring look.  “Do you think that they raised their voices at all?  If she whispered, that is the Gardiner blood in her, so gentle . . .”

“You are terrible, she was clearly distraught!”  Mrs. Gardiner read the praise of Elizabeth and said thoughtfully “You know, Lizzy has felt the sting of Jane’s disdain, subtly applied for quite some time.”

Mr. Gardiner smiled and nodded, “Bingley called her on it.  I wonder what was finally the tipping point for him?” 

“It could be anything, something tiny could do it.    I feel sorry for Jane.  All she knows is Lizzy’s triumphs, and she has no idea why she is praised so highly.  She has only seen the exterior of the house in London, she has no idea of anything that happened with Miss Darcy . . .   I think that the problem is that Jane has not had any opportunity to prove herself fit to be Mr. Bingley’s wife, other than being beautiful.”

“What do you mean?”  He sat up and folded his arms.

“Well . . . she married and immediately fell into nursing her father, so she was never home.  Then he died and they were in mourning, then they travelled to Scarborough and here to London again before it was back to Netherfield  . . .” 

“So?  How much travelling have Lizzy and Darcy endured over the past months?”

“But Jane has yet to be mistress of her home!  She has either stayed in the homes of relatives, or been so busy with Longbourn that her sisters have been acting as mistress at Netherfield, a home that is leased!  And there is supposedly carefree Lizzy with three homes, and triumphing, even winning over Lady Catherine who caused her so much pain.”

“Pain that Jane forgets.”  He pointed out.  “If this was a first quarrel and Bingley managed to point out some faults that made her see herself in a different light, then good for him.”  Mr. Gardiner reached for his newspaper.  “And good for him, seeing her as not perfect.”

“You are firmly on the Darcys’ side in this?”

“We do not know what side there is, do we?  This is speculation on our part and may be terribly wrong.  But if I were to determine who has my sympathy, it would be Lizzy over Jane.  She has real concerns, where Jane’s are imagined.  All she has to do is buy a house and marry off a sister, and send her other relatives home.” 

Mrs. Gardiner watched him shrug.  “Do you think that Mr. Bingley might regret marrying her?” 

“It is too late for that now even if he does.”  He leaned over and kissed Mrs. Gardiner.  “Write to her something reassuring, but remind her as much as you can what Lizzy and Mr. Darcy have endured.”

“You are no help at all.”  Mrs. Gardiner smiled.  “But I still love you.”

He winked and snapped open his paper.  “Of course you do.” 

 

“YOU HAVE HAD
NO
SUSPICIONS?”  Parker asked Judy softly. 

She looked up from the ironing board and watched two girls carrying buckets past the open door, then back to him.  “Of course I have suspicions.”

“Then why not tell me?  I was completely taken aback when the master started laying out his thoughts so openly, but as he spoke, it . . .” He lowered his voice, “It reminded me in some ways of . . . Miss Cargill.”  He looked at her significantly.

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